Emphasis on tried.
“I’m stronger than you. I could make sure you’re the last person off this boat, or I can call the Tribune and let them know you just tried to push a woman twenty years your senior down the stairs.”
“I’ll fry you for this.”
“I doubt it. But my name is Merit, Sentinel of Cadogan House. You want to fry me? The House is easy to find.”
That put the fear of God in his eyes.
“Exactly,” I said. “Get your ass in line.”
He moved back into position, stayed there until it was his turn. “What a piece of work is man,” I muttered, and turned around just in time to hear a woman scream when the boat shuddered. She lurched forward, hand outstretched, as something disappeared over the side of the boat.
“Shit,” I murmured, and ran forward, slipping once and hitting my knees on the slick and icy deck; it took a moment before I could get traction again.
Her son had tumbled off the boat and onto a plate of ice below, screaming in terror. He slid across the ice nearly to the serrated edge, managed to stop himself before hurtling into the dark water.
There were cuts on his cheeks from scraping the ice, and his face was pale with fear. But he was in one piece.
“I’ll get him!” I yelled, and looked down at the slick flat of ice, a chunk about the size of a recliner. I couldn’t jump down onto it. It still bobbled in the not fully frozen water, buoyant now, but maybe not if I put all my weight and the force of my jump onto it. If it didn’t hold, we’d both end up in the drink.
Kid overboard, I told Ethan. I’m going after him.
Be careful, he said, but I was already moving, not bothering to wait for a response.
The child had fallen on the side that tilted toward the water, probably having slipped on the snow that was hardening like concrete around the deck as the temperature began to fall. The ice vampire cometh, I thought, and went to my knees at the railing. There were ropes that linked one deck to the other on this part of the ship. If I was careful, and really lucky, I might be able to get a toehold.
I was glad I’d worn my boots.
“My baby!” the mom screamed as I stood up, put one leg over the railing.
“What’s his name?” I asked her, putting the other leg over, which left me cantilevered backward along the side of the boat. I kept an iron grip on freezing steel with frigid fingers. Too bad I hadn’t thought to wear gloves.
“Stephen,” she said, kneading her fingers with understandable nerves. “His name is Stephen.”
“I’m going to get him and bring him back to you.” I looked around for something helpful for her to do. “Grab that life buoy,” I told her, gesturing to the white ring with red stenciled letters that hung along the railing a few feet away.
“Keep the rope attached to it, and come stand near the rail. When I give you the signal, throw it down to me.”
She nodded, picked her way across the slanted deck with both hands on the rail, and unhooked the ring.
; Forever, Ethan said to me, then jumped down to the second deck.
“It’s all right,” I said, striding forward to the humans who were hanging on to benches bolted to the deck in an effort to stay upright and keep from sliding into the gap themselves. “We’re going to get you off the boat. And onto the dock,” I added, since getting them off the boat and into the water was a real possibility.
The boat’s staff were downstairs, so I looked around, found someone who looked reasonably strong and reasonably calm, pointed at him. He was young, with tan skin, dark hair, and a faint mustache over his top lip that he probably wished was thicker.
“You!” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Pham.”
“Excellent, Pham. I’m Merit. You’re going to help me, okay?”
He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin neck. “Okay.”
I put a hand on his arm. “You’ve got this.” I glanced around, pointed to the closest stairway—or the boat’s half-ladder, half-stairway version of one—where people were pushing and shoving to get to the first deck. The stairs were already leaning and slick, so pushing was a recipe for certain disaster. “Go stand at the stairs,” I said.
“I can’t swim,” he said, blinking back tears I could see he was working not to shed. “I don’t want to drown.”